


Tights Over Texas

by BlueMinuet



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, RMWT, Real Men Wear Tights, Spin-Off, doesn't really have much to do with rmwt, except for real men wearing tights
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-05
Updated: 2013-05-17
Packaged: 2017-12-07 14:27:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/749555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueMinuet/pseuds/BlueMinuet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Texas is a big place. With so much space, you’d think the resident superheroes wouldn’t run into each other so much…</p>
<p>It happens more often than you’d think. </p>
<p>In which the Sugoi Samurai has a spandex suit and a cute butt, the Muscle Beast is caught staring, and the Rogue Nyan only makes matters worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Guy That Sugoi Should Wear a Warning

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Real Men Wear Tights](https://archiveofourown.org/works/469179) by [Bananaramses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bananaramses/pseuds/Bananaramses), [SergeantMeow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SergeantMeow/pseuds/SergeantMeow). 



> **Equius: Be the hero that San Antonio needs, not the hero that San Antonio deserves.**  


You’re not even sure what that means, but you don’t really have time to think about it because you are busy throwing a dumpster at a pair of muggers. Your aim is spot on, as it usually is, and the dumpster flies over their heads, and landing harmlessly in front of them, blocking their path of escape. Harmless, but scary as heck.  


The muggers agree with this observation, and begin panicking as you walk over to them. One of them—the smarter of the two, it seems—drops the purse and his weapons, and falls down to his knees in fear. The other one decides to attack you. However, he dropped his knife a few minutes ago, and has only his fists to retaliate with.  


He lands a solid punch to your solar plexus. Had he tried this on any normal person, that probably would have had a chance of working. As things are though, your abdominal muscles refuse to budge in the slightest. He freezes, his fist resting uselessly under the stylized MB logo emblazoned on the chest of your double-breasted waistcoat.  


He looks up at you, and you met his eyes from behind the black cracked goggles that rest over your cowl. He makes a whimpering noise.  


You grab his hand. If you wanted to you could snap his wrist with only a twitch of your thumb and forefinger, but of course you wouldn’t do that unless it was necessary. And it definitely doesn’t seem to be called for, because as soon as you grab him he goes limp and yelps like a barkbeast.  


You pull two pairs of plastic cuffs from a pouch on your hip. You throw one pair at the first mugger while you begin cuffing the one in your grasps.  


“I suggest you put those on before I am forced to put them on for you,” you tell him, leveling your eyes at him. He quickly complies, fumbling the entire time. You throw his cuffed friend down next to him. You quickly check to make sure he has attached the cuffs securely and confiscate the knife that he threw down.  


You have bigger problems than these two. There was a third mugger that bolted as soon as the trio saw you. You need to find him and apprehend him before…  


You hear a metallic thump and the third mugger has been dropped onto the top of the upturned dumpster. He is unconscious, but otherwise none the worse for wear. You peek over to the other side of the dumpster, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.  


Your sidekick is there, swishing her blue tail triumphantly. Her claws are still extended out from the sleeves of her coat, cracking with electricity from their stun function. Her smile is wide, making her cat themed cowl ride up just a little.  


“Worry not! The furocious huntress has catpurred the purrpetrator,” she says with a chuckle. “Were you worried, Beastie?”  


You smirk at the nickname. “I… simply wanted to make sure he didn’t harm you, Nyan.”  


She rolls her eyes at you. You grab the unconscious mugger and cuff him, just to be on the safe side. You frisk him and find a cell phone. “Would you like to call the police?” you ask her.  


She nods, and grabs the phone from you. While she dials, you set the dumpster back as it was, and give the two conscious muggers an intimidating scowl to make it clear that they should stay still as you do so.  


“Hello, police,” your meowrail—you mean, moirail—says. “This is the Rogue Nyan and Muscle Beast, and we’ve apurrhended three bad guys!”  


You signal to her that you will be waiting on the roof when she is done with her call. As soon as she nods, you bunch the muscles in your legs and scale the building in a single leap. You have to flail a little to slow yourself down so that you don’t make a tremendously loud noise when you land. Or break anything, which you admit would be the more unfortunate outcome.  


You are very prone to breaking many things. Or at least you used to be. You like to think that your training has paid off; you haven’t unintentionally broken anything important in many years. Still, it is a concern that haunts many of your waking hours.  


You scan the area around you to see if there is anything that needs your attention. A flutter of movement catches your eye on a rooftop not far from your own. You tense, ready to jump into action to break apart the tussle.  


You relax as soon as you recognize the ridiculously ostentatious fighting style of one of the combatants. You squint to get a better look to confirm your suspicions. He is wearing a skintight black catsuit with orange accenting. Hiding his face is a simple black mask, pointed sharply at the edges. He makes no effort to cover his spikey white-blonde hair. As if that didn’t make him stand out enough, his red and orange hover board is lashed to his back, along with his signature katana.  


You can’t help but think what a gosh-darned foolish twit he is.  


Your moirail jumps onto your shoulders suddenly. You admire how quiet she can be; you didn’t even hear her approach.  


She crouches and rests her head on yours, and it fits neatly between your cloth covered horns.  


“Is that Sugoi over there?” she asks, and you assume she must have followed your gaze.  


You nod. “It appears that The Sugoi Samurai has returned to Texas.”  


“Yay,” she squeals. She jumps from your shoulders and onto the railing in front of you. “It will be good to see him again. Gosh, it feels like it's been furever!”  


You grimace. “I assumed he wouldn’t be back. As least not back to San Antonio.”  


Nepeta—you mean, The Rogue Nyan—frowns at you. “You don’t like him very much do you?”  


You don’t take your eyes off of him, watching him twist and turn with over stylized fighting moves, as if he were in one of his Japanese animes. “He is an arrogant, cavalier egotist who thinks nothing of how his actions might be detrimental to himself and those around him.”  


Nyan sighs. “What makes you say that? Every time I talk to him, he’s really nice. And he’s a good superhero.”  


You scoff at that. “I don’t think he even has any actual powers.”  


Nyan huffs, and twitches her tail angrily. “And just who said that superheroes have to have superpawers, huh?”  


You frown down at her. “I was not referring to you, of course. That is different.”  


“Nuh uh,” she says, standing up on the railing and pacing on it. She walks it like a tightrope, her tail acting as a perfect counterbalance. “It is too the same thing.”  


“It is most definitely not,” you say. “The situation is entirely different. You have enhancements to your balance, agility, reflexes… your entire spinal column is…” You trail off, knowing that she knows what you were going to say anyway.  


She bends over backwards to look at you while still balancing on the rail, pretty much proving your point. “Stop furowning, meowrail,” she tells you. “You know I don’t blame you. I nefur did. If anything, I should thank you fur making me better after the accident.”  


You nod. Talking about her cybernetic enhancements is always a sore spot for you.  


“That’s not the point, anyway,” Nyan says, standing back up straight, and spinning on the railing. “How do you know Sugoi doesn’t have enhancements? I mean, my only visible one is my tail.”  


You shake your head. “I highly doubt it. Yours were custom made. And besides, it is not just your enhancements. You have been training with me for most of our lives.”  


She rolls her eyes. “I’m sure Sugoi trains just as much as we do.”  


“It is still foolish,” you insist. “Without superpowers, a hero is only inviting danger for himself and his loved ones.”  


Nyan stares at you silently, judging you.  


“Besides, what self-respecting superhero would call himself ‘The Sugoi Samurai’?” you ask.  


Nyan shrugs. “He says he only calls himself that ironiclawly.”  


“I do not believe it is ironic if it is the name he is known by,” you say, crossing your arms. “Only a fool would call himself that.”  


“Pff, wow,” a masculine voice says from behind you, with just hints of a Texas twang. You jump slightly, but you would deny it if asked. “You’re kind of a douche, Beast, you know that?”  


You turn, and naturally it’s Sugoi. He’s crouched on his hoverboard, bringing him roughly eye-level with you. You have to give him credit for his stealth at least. He’s wearing a grin that makes his face look irresistibly punchable.  


“Hey, Nyan,” he says, looking past you and waving at your moirail. “’Sup?”  


“Oh, nothing. Just arguing with my hard-headed meowrail,” she says cheerfully.  


“Yeah, I noticed,” he says, still smirking. “You got a problem with me, Big Guy?”  


You absolutely did not miss that preposterous nickname.  


“Nothing that I have not told you before,” you say.  


Sugoi shrugs, and jumps off of his hoverboard. It shuts off instantly and he catches it before it can hit the ground. “Yeah, yeah. I’m a piss-poor superhero or whatever. Cut me some slack, dude. We can’t all be ripped like you.”  


He pats one of your bare arms. The gesture is a bit too familiar for you, and your face heats just a tad.  


He steps around you, and you grumble as he high-fives your moirail. “Miss me, Nyan?”  


She nods. “Yeah. What are you doing back here anyway? How come you’re not back in Dallas?”  


He shrugs. “Actually, I was there for a few months. Just didn’t feel right after being gone so long. Felt like I was crouching in on someone else’s territory, y’know? So I came down here. I might stay for a while, I guess.”  


You groan at the idea.  


Nyan gasps. “But I thought you were moving our west fur good to team up with your matesprit.”  


Sugoi leans over onto the railing, causing his hips to thrust out behind him in a way you might be tempted to call impudent.  


“It turns out there’s just not enough crime out on the Pacific rim to need two spandex wearing vigilantes to take care of it,” he says.  


Nyan leans closer to him. “But… you and Golgotha are still togefur, right?”  


Sugoi sighs, and you can’t help but notice the way his entire body moves with it. “What? You think that he got sick of my mother hen overbearing protectiveness and we fought and broke up over that. What would the odds of that be?”  


“High, I assume, or else your scenario would not be so ludicrously specific,” you chime in.  


“Bingo,” he says, shrugging. Once again, the small movement causes him to shift his body, rippling through the muscles of his entire body, and his tight catsuit hides nothing. “He dumped me like a week-old burrito.”  


“Oh, no,” Nyan shrieks. “Do you think you might make up later?”  


Sugoi picks at some of the rust on the railing. “The short answer is no.”  


“The long answer?” you ask.  


“There may or may not have been a blue woman with freaky mind powers involved. I don’t really want to get into it.”  


Nyan growls. “I thought you two were purrfect for each other. Now I have to update my shipping wall when I get home.”  


Sugoi smirks. “You got any other ships with me in them? I gotta get back on the metaphorical horse, you know.”  


“This hardly seems like a matter of importance,” you interject. “We have a duty to this city, and standing here discussing your love life is not helping matters.”  


“Jesus, man. Does that stick up your ass hurt or what?” he asks you, and you flush a bit blue at the lewd imagery. “I just wanted to unwind with some fellow supers, who might be able to relate to the intricacies of superhero interpersonal relationships. Excuse the fuck out of me. Not like I get any sympathy from my douchelord time hero brother.”  


He stops talking abruptly and frowns. The pause causes you to realize that your attention had been directed at his buttocks rather than his face. You snap your head up to look him in the eyes and you hope he doesn’t notice.  


He doesn’t seem to. “No offense to other time powered individuals, obviously. How is Quartz anyway?”  


You look away. That gesture doesn’t escape Sugoi’s notice.  


“Uh oh,” he says.  


“I wouldn’t mention Quartz Melody right now,” Nyan hisses. “They broke up not long after you left.”  


“Ouch. Sorry to hear that man,” he says. “I knew you two were kinda rocky, I mean what with her living in Houston, and with the quadrant vacillating or whatever you guys call it. But I didn’t think it was that bad. Is she still around?”  


Nyan shakes her head. “She moved.”  


“Where?” he asks.  


“Venezuela,” you growl.  


Sugoi whistles, and looks down at the street below. “Wow. That sucks. See, this is why we should have, like, superhero facebook. Keep track of all the shit going on with my superbros.”  


“That seems highly impractical,” you say.  


Sugoi seems to be transfixed, staring at something on the street. His hips are swinging just slightly, and you are ashamed that it draws your attention again.  


He shrugs. “I think it would be awesome. Get to talk to a bunch of other supers, keep up on Nyan’s shipping wall, post pictures of my butt that you can stare at on your own time…”  


“What?!” you shout. Your face is turning blue, and you know there’s nothing you can do about it. “I was not…”  


“You so were,” he says. “You’ve been staring at it since I leaned over here. What, you think I always just lean over on things and shake my butt around all impudent-like? Figured I would put on a show if you were gonna keep staring. I think you probably owe me money for putting on such a good butt waving show.”  


“I…” you try to come up with some sort of defense. “I was just…”  


“Back me up here, Nyan,” Sugoi says. “He was totally staring, right?”  


She giggles. “Sorry, meowrail. But you were. It was pawsitively adorable though.”  


“I am not adorable,” you mutter.  


Sugoi laughs, exaggeratedly gyrating his hips. “Man, I think I just discovered a new power. Ass-hypnotizing. It can sooth the savage Muscle Beast.”  


Nyan continues laughing. “I’ll have to take this new pawer into account when I update my ships.”  


You grumble while Sugoi and Nyan share a high-five.  


“Anywho, we should all get going. This city isn’t going to protect itself while you’re busy staring at butts, Muscle Beast. Geez man, what are you thinking?” He smirks as he jumps onto his hoverboard. “See you guys around.”  


You watch him fly away in a shocked silence, with only the sound of your moirail’s muffled giggles interrupting your stupor.  


* * *

**> Equius: Be a normal high school senior.**   


You carefully spin the lock on your locker, coding in the combination.  


Here at school you’re not Muscle Beast. You’re just Equius. You wear frumpy, baggy clothes that hide all of your physique. You don’t play sports; you just play on the chess team. It's boring but... it's your life.  


Someone bumps into you and you jump.  


“Oh, uh, sorry,” the other student says.  


You nod at him, accepting his apology. You don’t recognize him, but that isn’t unusual. You don’t really talk to anyone other than Nepeta at school. She has some friends, but none of them pay much attention to you.  


“Hey, uh,” the student says. You take a minute to look at him. His blonde hair is slicked back with gel, and behind his thick glasses you spot a pair of brown eyes. He’s dressed very conservatively as well; he has a sweater vest on for goodness sake.  


“I just transferred and this is my first day here,” the student explains in a halting voice. “And I’m kinda lost. Do you think you could, maybe, um, tell me where my next class is?”  


The boy hands you his class schedule, and in the same movement manages to fumble and drops the books and pencils he was holding. He bends to get them with a squeaky exclamation of ‘oops.’  


You look at the schedule for a moment before your eyes are drawn away to something scribbled at the bottom of it.  
[](http://s47.photobucket.com/user/GeneralBlueRaven/media/scheduleNote.png.html)  


You can’t help it; you look at his ass. The student is still bent over, waggling his butt at you in what is now a fairly familiar manner. He stands up and you catch just the slightest wink.  


There can be no doubt. It’s Sugoi.  


You crumble his class schedule in shock.  


“I, uh, kinda needed that, Big Guy,” he says, grinning.  


“I… umm…” Luckily you don’t have to try to salvage that sentence when you are interrupted by Nepeta coming up to you.  


“Hi, Equius,” she says, beaming up at you from her wheelchair. “Who’s your friend?”  


It pleases you to see Sugoi’s eyes widen a bit, as he recognizes her. You want to make a snide comment about whether her alter-ego is acceptable, but you decide that’s best saved for a less public venue.  


“Ah, Nepeta, this is…” You uncrumple his schedule to look at his information. “Dirk Strider,” you read from the page. “And… apparently he will be accompanying us to Calculus.”  


Sugoi—or rather Dirk, you suppose—flashes you the same cocky grin he always has when in costume, before reigning it back into a more timid grin. “Oh good,” he says. “Maybe we can get to know each other better.”  


“Oh, yes,” Nepeta says cheerily. “Eq needs more friends. Maybe even a boyfriend.” She accompanies the last statement with a wink.  


You’re not sure if she has seen though Sugoi’s disguise or not. This is fairly common behavior for Nepeta in any situation.  


Dirk blushes (Is that a genuine blush? You can’t fake blushes, can you?) and giggles slightly. “Uh… I dunno about that. Maybe we should just wait and see how Calculus goes…”  


Nepeta grabs him by his hand and drags him along. He seems a bit surprised at just how fast she can move.  


“Well, come on, Dirk. We’re gonna be late if we just stand around talking. You too, Eq!”  


You sigh. This is going to be a long day.


	2. Don't Hate the Player

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, many thanks to my editor, WingSongHalo, who is always more accepting of my Dirquius obsession than strictly necessary.   
> This chapter is dedicated to theoddoneforever on tumblr, because I'm just so glad she stuck around. Hope you like it, Hun.

** > Equius: You have survived the school day. Rejoice. **

As much as you enjoy this fact, you keep your rejoicing on an internalized level only. You’re glad to be done with today. You spent much more time with Dirk than you would have liked, as it turns out many of your classes are the same. 

You would suspect foul play there, except that it does make some sense. You are both taking AP and Honors classes, and as such it makes sense that you would have many of them in common. As much as you wish you could hold on to your mental image of him as an arrogant tool, you must admit that he is at least an intelligent arrogant tool. 

It was only at lunch that Nepeta had realized that he was in fact Sugoi, which resulted in a milk spit-take and arm flailing that spelled the demise of two dinner rolls and a particularly unappetizing slice of meatloaf. You still have the stains on your hoodie. 

You would be more than happy to go home and try to forget about it, but you have other obligations. You are Nepeta’s ride home, and while she meets with her Anime Club, you must attend Chess Practice. 

You slump into the room, and take your normal seat by the windows. You look outside, and let your mind wander while waiting for practice to begin. You try not to think about Dirk, but the subject pops up once again as you wonder if he will be bothering you during your patrols tonight. You imagine his cocky grin as he taunts you once again, before he turns around and bends over, suggestively showing off… No, you will not think about his posterior again!

Fiddlesticks, you are thinking about his posterior again. Entirely against your will even. You briefly consider visiting a school counselor about the issue of your traitorous mind. 

You hear the instructor clearing her throat, grabbing your attention back to the present. 

“Alright team. Before we start practice, I’d like to introduce a new member. He just moved here, so I’d like everyone to give him a warm welcome.” 

She says his name, but you stopped paying attention in order to focus all of your attention into the glare to end all glares. 

Of course he plays chess. Why wouldn’t he play chess? 

Dirk withers under your glare, playing into his part of the shy new kid. 

“Um, hi everybody,” he says, barely louder than a whisper. “I was, um, on my old school’s chess team so I hope that, uh, I’ll be able to help your team win and… stuff.” 

“Equius,” the instructor says, and you note a bit of irritation in her expression. She probably caught you glaring.

“Yes, ma’am?” you reply, trying to look innocent, though you know you’ll be lucky to pull off apologetic. 

“Perhaps you’d like to practice with Dirk. Show him how we do things here.” 

Dirk is chewing on his lip, and you imagine he’d be grinning otherwise. 

You, on the other hand, are choking back a groan as you nod. “Yes, ma’am. Of course.” 

Everyone sets about rearranging the desks, pairing up the desks to face each other. You and Dirk settle in the back. You shove a chess set into his hands a bit more forcefully than needed. He only smirks and starts setting up the board. 

The rest of the team gravitates closer to the front of the room, away from you. This is pretty normal, since you have a reputation for being a bit creepy, and you never saw fit to really do anything about it. 

This situation is the only time that it has ever bothered you, because you are now left alone with Dirk’s excrement-consuming grin. 

“So, um… do you want white or black?” he asks, beginning to line up pawns. 

You slide the black pieces over to your side wordlessly. 

“Aww, don’t be like that, Eq,” he says, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You’re still mad about the ass-jiggling?” 

You narrow your eyes at him. “In the scenario that ceasing conversation entirely is not an option, it would be appreciated if you could keep your filthy language to a minimum.”

He rolls his eyes at you. “Eq, you’re about the same age as me, so you’ve gotta be at least pushing eighteen. I think a little bit of filth is permissible.” 

“Equius,” you growl. 

“What?”

“My name is not Eq. My name is Equius.” 

He frowns. “I’m terribly sorry. May I simply call you Equius, or would you prefer me to preface that with ‘Your Highness’?” 

You sigh. “The board is set up. White moves first. Please make a move.” 

He shrugs, and half-heartedly pushes a pawn forward. “Jeez man, what did I do to make you so ornery?” 

You make your move. “It is not so much anything you have done. I simply find your personality brash and abrasive.” 

He nods. “Yeah, I can see that. Fair enough.”

You blink, a little shocked. “Is that all?” 

He pushes another piece forward in a lazy manner. “Yeah, pretty much. I mean, I am kind of an asshole. I know that. But I also hope you know that this pretty much a pot and kettle situation here.” 

You growl, and keep playing more on impulse than anything. “We are nothing alike.” 

He nods. “Oh, yeah. I get that. Totally. We are just two dudes who take pretty much all of the same classes, and share similar after-school hobbies. Nothing alike at all. We should pretty much steer clear of anything resembling friendship whatsoever.” 

“I’m glad we agree,” you mutter.

You continue playing in silence for a few moments. His moves seem to be lifted directly from a textbook, and are far too predictable for you to enjoy it. 

To your annoyance, he breaks the silence. “Wait, I know why you’re so pissed. Or, I dunno, what’s a cleaner way to say that? Miffed? Chuffed? Or does chuffed mean happy? I don’t even know, this shit’s confusing.” 

You glare at him, urging him to move on. 

“You’re just angry that I saw through your clever disguise,” he whispers. 

You slam down the next piece a little harder than you meant to. 

“I knew that was it,” he says with a smirk. 

“How did you know who I was?” you ask. 

He wags a finger at you. “Oh, but that would be telling.” 

“You’re being ridiculous,” you whisper to him. “If there is something obvious giving me away, you should tell me.” 

“Well, luckily for you it isn’t obvious then,” he whispers back. “Relax, Big Guy. No one else would catch it.” 

“You…” You search for the words to properly express your disdain, and come up a little wanting. “You are being an egotistical ninny. If you can see it, others may be able to.” 

“A ninny?” he repeats, blinking at you. “Really? You really talk like this? You have got to be one hundred percent shitting me right now.” 

“Regardless, tell me,” you insist. 

He shrugs. “Okay, know what? Win this match, and I’ll tell you.”

“You’re being irrational.”

“So, what you’re saying is, you think you’ll lose,” he says with a straight face. 

“I will not let you bait me into this foolish agreement,” you say. 

“Yep, that sounds like an excuse,” he says. “It’s cool. I understand. My game is pretty intimidating.” 

It is not. It is actually pretty pathetic. 

“You really refuse to tell me under any other circumstances?” you ask.

He shrugs. “Probably.”

You look at the board, deciding that victory is pretty inevitable at this point anyway. “Fine. Then you will tell me when I win.” 

He smiles. “Oh that is just what I wanted to hear.”

You would realize in exactly five turns how foolish you were to think he was actually playing a textbook game because of his lack of ingenuity. 

Of course he’s good at chess. Why wouldn’t he be good at chess?

* * *

** > Well, at least you’re still a superhero. **

The sun has just set, and you are once again perched on a rooftop, surveying the area around you. You plan to start your nightly rounds soon, but you are perfectly content to wait for a moment while your moirail takes care of whatever mysterious business she said she had.

Or, you would be perfectly content, if it wasn't for Sugoi literally hovering by you and making a nuisance of himself.

He's been crouched on his board and staring at you for the past few minutes. You would ask him why, but you would rather not encourage such behavior; i.e. conversation.

You are forced to, however, when he reaches out to you. You tense slightly and follow his hand, trying to discern its trajectory. It finds its target and prods your right horn.

"What are you doing?" you ask with a sigh.

"So, you only had half a horn there earlier. Do you wear a fake horn on that side then?" he asks.

You roll your eyes. "No, my powers include situationally aware horn regrowth."

He clutches his chest dramatically. "Is that sarcasm? Oh, motherfucking swoon, I believe I just developed a case of the vapors."

You would be lying if you said you were completely surprised when he takes a dramatic swan dive off of his board. You catch him, more out of instinct than concern. His board clatters uselessly onto the rooftop.

He smirks up at you, and you're sure your face is turning blue. You take a second to notice his bright orange eyes, and for a minute have an overwhelming urge to ask him whether they are contacts, or if he wears brown contacts at school.

The urge subsides when he begins waggling his eyebrows suggestively. "So, this is right where you wanted me, right?”

You drop him. To your never ending annoyance, that just amuses him more. He hits the ground chuckling.

You bend down and grab the fallen hoverboard. You turn it over in your hands, examining its construction.

"Trying to figure out why it shut down?" Sugoi asks. "Spoilers: It's magic."

"I find it far more likely to be a combination of magnets and reed switches," you say.

Sugoi shrugs. "Magnets. Magic. It's all the same really."

"I'm far more concerned about how you control it," you say. "I'm assuming it uses gyroscopes to detect the direction of your leaning? Or perhaps the magnetic reed switches are more complex than I thought. I assume you trigger them with magnets in your boots, so the position of your feet could play a role as well."

He stares at you blankly. "Wow. I did not expect that. You sure know your mechanical engineering."

You toss the board back to him gently. "Who did you think built Nyan's tail?"

He stands and slings the board over his shoulder. “Well, now. More hobbies we have in common, I guess.”

You really wish you could punch him. Is that so much to ask?

Luckily, Nyan interrupts with her return. She leaps up to you, and presents a box. She flips it open, revealing half a dozen doughnuts. 

“Ta da,” she says, purring in excitement. 

You stare at her slightly dumbfounded. “Doughnuts?” 

You are fairly irked when Sugoi asks the same question at the same time. But you decide to ignore it. 

“This is the ‘business’ you were taking care of?” Sugoi asks, miming air-quotes at the word business. 

Nyan nods happily. “I thought we should all share a treat. Now that Sugoi’s here with us. It’s like a ‘Welcome to the Team’ snack.”

“Hells yes,” Sugoi says, grabbing a doughnut. “Are these jelly-filled? Aww, man, they are. This is awesome.” 

You frown. “Team? We are not a team. And we do not have time for this foolishness.”

Your moirail responds by shoving the box of pastries closer to your face. “Beastie, there is always time for doughnuts.” 

You give in and reluctantly grab one of the doughnuts. Your moirail has been known to be quite persistent in such matters. 

“Man, I could get used to this,” Sugoi says, sitting down on the edge of the roof, letting his feet dangle off the sides. “This is about the nicest welcome I’ve had to just about anywhere.”

You do not pay attention as the bluish jelly of the doughnut squirts onto the side of his mouth, and you don’t watch as he licks it away. This is not something even remotely on your radar, and even if it was, you wouldn’t think of it as mildly suggestive even in the slightest. These are statements of fact. 

Nyan laughs and sits down next to Sugoi, enjoying her own doughnut. “Well it’s the least I could do. Especially affur you scared me half to death when I realized who you were.” 

He giggles through doughnut bites. “Sorry. You were kind of surprising yourself. Hey, don’t suppose you can tell me the real story about the wheelchair now, huh?”

She shakes her head. “No. I shouldn’t really say much more than what I said in History class.”

You frown. You hadn’t heard about this. “What did you tell him?” 

“The same story I tell efurryone,” she says with a shrug. “Mostly the truth. A thief came to my house, and I got hurt by accident.”

“And then Muscle Beast swooped in to save the day,” Sugoi says, completing the rest of the standard story. “I bet that part is especially true.”

You’re torn between arguing and stuffing your face full of doughnut. You chose the latter. 

“I feel like I am definitely missing something here,” Sugoi says, raising an eyebrow at you. “But alright.”

You’re relatively happy to have avoided the conversation, but you can’t shake the feeling that Sugoi gave up a bit too easily. 

The three of you go quiet for some time, until you notice Sugoi staring very intently at the ground. 

“Is something wrong?” Nyan asks him. 

“It’s the same guy,” Sugoi mutters, just barely louder than a whisper. “Hey, Beast, that was the building you spotted me on last night, right?” 

He points to a building cattycorner to the rooftop you’re on. “Yes, I believe so, why?” 

“It’s definitely the same guy,” he mutters again. You notice him reaching into one of his hip pouches, and produce a pair of shades that are the same shape as his mask. 

“You mean the same bad guy you were fighting on the rooftop last night?” Nyan asks. 

Sugoi shakes a head. “No. This guy was walking on the street afterwards. While we were talking.” 

You follow Sugoi’s gaze, and he seems to be looking at an average person in a suit, who is entering the building he pointed out earlier. 

“What’s his significance?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” Sugoi says, affixing the pair of shades over his mask. 

“Then why do you remember him?” 

“Because I do.”

“Is he related to the incident you were dealing with last night?”

“Probably.”

“But you don’t know for sure.” 

“I figure the odds are about 87.3% for,” he says with a shrug. 

“I believe that percentage is probably hogwash pulled from your posterior,” you grumble. 

“You mean my excellently sculpted posterior, right?” he says with a smirk. 

You don’t dignify that. “I don’t understand why you are following the movements of this seemingly random man.”

“Because he doesn’t belong in that building.”

“You know that as a statement of fact?”

“Well, I guess it’s more of a strongly worded hunch.” 

“A hunch? Oh, is that so? Do you think three superheroes will be enough to combat the potential danger of this hunch, or shall I call the police to let them know to be on stand-by?”

“That’s right, MB. Just keep sassing me up,” Sugoi mutters. 

Your moirail giggles, and you suddenly feel like your common sense is swiftly becoming a minority opinion.

“Alright, mystery man is going up the elevator,” Sugoi whispers, adjusting something on the glasses. 

“How do you know fur sure?” Nyan asks. 

“X-Ray Shades,” Sugoi says, tapping the eyewear. 

“Fur real?”

“Yup,” Sugoi grins. “Made them myself.” 

“That is not how x-rays work, and even if it were, a device that tiny would not be able to produce sufficient radiation to penetrate a building from this distance, much less do it without exposing the user and everyone around him to a lethal dose of radiation,” you say.

Sugoi looks at you, and you can see his eyebrows furrowing over his eyewear. “Well, yeah… I mean, obviously it doesn’t really use x-rays. That’s just what I call the glasses. I mean, what the hell do you want me to call them? The look-through-walls-with-applied-phlebotinum eyewear device?” 

He looks you up and down with the device still perched on his nose, and you take the slightest of steps away, a bit wary of the device since you don’t know how it works. 

Sugoi sighs, and rolls his head back to what he was previously looking at. “Relax. It’s not like I can see through clothes with them; do you know how hard it would be to make something like this so accurate that you could see through clothes but not skin and muscle? Jesus, Beast, for a smart guy, you’re really dumb.” 

“Th-that was not my concern…”

“Wait,” Sugoi says, his voice deepening with concern. “Shit, that doesn’t look kosher.” 

You want to ask him to explain, but he’s already grabbed his hoverboard and is rushing over to the building. 

“Nyan,” you bark, and she jumps on your shoulders. You jump the rooftops, landing on the one next to the building Sugoi has been eying. He’s way ahead of you, rushing to one of the top story windows. 

You miss what happens next in a blur of orange flames and the roar of a blast. Nyan yelps, and jumps off of you. Your eyes dart until you catch sight of Sugoi, tumbling backwards towards you. You jump and catch him before he hits the roof. 

“Sugoi?” 

He no longer has his X-Ray Shades, and his mask is askew. His eyes seem wide in shock, but you figure that’s probably to be expected. 

It takes you a moment to realize that there’s red blood all over your arms. There’s a sizable gash in his right shoulder, probably from shrapnel. 

“Sugoi?” you ask again.

“What?” he asks too loudly, rubbing his left ear. “What? I’m fine.” He pushes his way out of your grasp and stumbles onto the rooftop. 

“Your shoulder…”

“I said I’m fine.” He’s stumbling back towards the other building. 

You rush over to look as well. The window he’d been heading towards is gone, along with a sizable chunk of the wall that it had been attached to. You hear fire alarms going off in the building, and there are people starting to file out of the ground floor doors. But it looks like the explosion was only enough to affect one room, though the fire may be another matter. 

In the blink of an eye, a tall, slender man appears in the gap of wall. You resist the urge to pull off your goggles, to make sure that they aren’t messing with your vision, because you’re sure he hadn’t been there before. He reaches into the partially destroyed wall, and produces a multicolored sword. He hefts the blade, resting the blunt edge of it against one shoulder, before looking directly at you and Sugoi. 

Nyan jumps onto the railing beside you, holding Sugoi’s hoverboard. Apparently she decided to retrieve that while you were too busy gawking. Sugoi wordlessly grabs it from her and leaps out at the newly armed man with a grunt. 

The tall man simply tips his bowler hat to Sugoi before disappearing into thin air. 

Sugoi screams in frustration. 

Nyan jumps onto your back and you follow Sugoi, jumping into the partially flame filled room. Luckily, it seems the explosion was controlled, and the fires seem minor, likely to burn themselves out with minimal attention. 

You take stock of the room. In the area of wall that is partially destroyed, you see the remains of what was probably a wall safe. It seems that’s where they mystery man got the sword from, but an explosion like this seems overkill to simply open a safe that size.

“That fucking bastard,” Sugoi yells, circling the room. He seems manic now, which you imagine you might be as well after having a building explode in your face.

“Who was that?” you ask. 

“I don’t know. But I have a feeling that…” Sugoi trails off. You follow his gaze. Most of the room—it seems like it was the living room of a small apartment—is understandably disheveled. But there’s a coffee table in the middle that seems oddly undisturbed. Even more unusual is that there is a folded note on top, completely unharmed. 

Sugoi hovers over to it and grabs the note. As he reads it, you can see the color drain from his face. 

“What is it? What’s going on?” you demand. 

Sugoi crumples the note and throws it to the ground. “It’s nothing,” he barely whispers. 

“You honestly expect me to believe that?” you bark. 

Sugoi shrugs with his one good arm. “Believe whatever you want, dude. Shouldn’t you be helping getting people out of the building or something? Fuck.”

He stomps on his hoverboard and it takes off, shooting him out of the former wall. 

You call out after him, but you already know he isn’t coming back. 

You turn to see that Nyan has already retrieved the note before the flames could claim it. 

“What does it say?” you ask her. 

She shrugs, and holds the note out to you. “To be purrfectly honest, I don’t know what it means.”

You glance at it and you have to admit; it doesn’t make much sense to you either. 

[](http://s47.photobucket.com/user/GeneralBlueRaven/media/calibornNote.png.html)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [evil laughter]
> 
> Also, if you haven't already checked these out, you should totally look at my sprite edits for the characters, because I'm really proud of them.  
> http://blueminuet.tumblr.com/post/46627650034/so-i-made-some-sprite-edits-for-a-story-im


End file.
